Best Moirails
by Fauxhound
Summary: Karkat thought that since he was Gamzee's moirail, he was the only one who could stop his psychotic rampage. He was wrong. Oneshot. Pale GamKar.


Karkat wasn't quick enough to catch his moirail in a hug. He was only just starting to feel his arms brush against the fabric of Gamzee's shirt , slick with his own blood, when two hands connected with his chest and shoved him away. The landing on the floor was rough and painful and a curse slipped out of his lips when his shoulder hit the ground with a loud thud and a crack.

Gamzee landed cleanly on his feet, smiling devilishly and staring down at his best friend with wild eyes. "Well, looky what we've motherfucking got here," Gamzee said aloud, the first troll to break the silence he'd caused. His footsteps were slow and he practically dragged his feet across the floor as he neared Karkat.

Karkat stared up at Gamzee with his anger clearly burning in his eyes as she struggled to sit up. Pain exploded in his shoulder and he did his best to ignore it. "What the fuck, Gamzee?" He snarled. "What are you fucking doing?"

Gamzee paused at Karkat and his smile melted away. He held an expressionless

face that not even his own moirail could read. Then, he drew back a leg and kicked Karkat hard in the ribs. Gamzee was a lot stronger than he looked. He could have broken Karkat's ribs with startling ease if he'd wanted to, but he went easy. His kick was, however, powerful enough to lay the mutantblooded troll out flat on his back with a yelp of pain.

There was motion from behind him and Gamzee looked over his shoulder at Terezi, who was grinding her teeth together in rage and pointing her cane at him threateningly. "Leave Karkat alone!" She shouted.

Only then did Gamzee allow an oversized toothy grin form on his face. "Now, don't up and get yourself hurt, too, motherfucker," he warned casually. That seemed to make Terezi even angrier, and Gamzee chuckled to himself before turning back to Karkat, who was sitting up again. Gamzee again drew back a leg and kicked him in the same spot as before.

Karkat yelped loudly, his voice betraying him as it cracked under the pressure of his pain. "Fuck!"

Gamzee leaned down and lifted Karkat's shirt up just barely, enough to reveal the handle of his sickle, which had been strategically hidden in a sheath in his pants. The highblood gently pulled the weapon out of its sheath in Karkat's clothing, slowly enough for the other troll to feel it slide out and hear its sharpness against the casing he'd placed it in. "Why'd you bring this along?" Gamzee asked, standing up straight to his full height to examine the weapon properly. He tilted his hand to allow the light to glint off of the sickle's curved blade.

Karkat's ribs ached and his mind warned him not to sit back up, but he forced himself to ignore both of those messages. He rose to a sitting position for the third time and stared Gamzee in the face. "I wasn't going to use that piece of shit against you, if that's what you're asking. I always have it on me."

Gamzee peered over the weapon to look at his moirail through half lidded eyes. "How convenient."

Karkat scowled at him. "What the fuck does that even mean?"

Gamzee lifted up an upturned hand and studied his palm for a quiet moment, ignoring Karkat's inquiry. His gaze then shifted to the sickle, and he moved it to his palm with a neutral, unreadable expression on his face.

Karkat watched in both disbelief and confusion as Gamzee pressed the blade onto his hand and ever-so-slowly slid it all the way across, leaving a long, deep gash in his hand. A smile made itself clear on Gamzee's face as a watched his own purple blood trickle down his hand. He didn't even seem to notice the pain it should have caused him. He lowered both hands to his side and gave his full attention to Karkat once more.

"What are you doing?!" his moirail demanded. Karkat got to his feet, rubbing his chest painfully. He frowned at him, looking just a little bit scared, and then pulled his moirail into a hug, staining his shirt with royal blood.

Gamzee didn't respond at all for a few seconds.

Karkat closed his eyes, breathing deeply.

"Get off of me."

Karkat's eyes opened and he stared at the remainder of his friends as they watched the scene behind Gamzee, incredulous. "What?"

"I said get off of me, motherfucker."

Karkat didn't let go. If anything, he tightened his hug.

Gamzee shoved him away and sent him stumbling backwards. "Don't you know how motherfucking rude it is to keep all up in a motherfucker's business after he asks for some privacy?"

Karkat's eyes were wide as he stared at Gamzee. "What?"

Gamzee, who had been moving with slow movements up until that moment, was suddenly holding him by the arm and twisted him around, forcing him to turn his back to his moirail. "You heard me, motherfucker."

Karkat was about to say something when he felt Gamzee press the sickle against his throat. He held his breath suddenly and stopped trying to struggle out of Gamzee's iron grip on his arm.

Gamzee grinned and laughed a little, his gashed hand smearing the vibrant colors of his blood onto Karkat's sleeve. He held the sickle still, close enough to Karkat's neck for him to feel it ghost against his skin, but far enough to not really even be touching him. He rested his head against the end of Karkat's shoulder and snaked out a long tongue to lick his own blood off of the tip of the sickle.

Karkat's heart was pounding in his chest and he was certain that Gamzee could hear it beating. He was terrified. Never before had he been so scared of his best friend. He could feel his eyes begin to water and hot, shameful cherry red tears slid down his cheeks. Sure, Karkat knew that he and Gamzee weren't Alternia's greatest moirails, but he had not seen this coming. His own moirail was going to kill him.

Gamzee could hear a troll behind him move in his direction and he steadied the hand holding the weapon to Karkat's throat threateningly. "Halt, motherfucker, or else my blood's not gonna be the only thing staining my shirt." The motion froze and he smiled even wider than before. He turned his head marginally to get a better angle to see Karkat's face and whispered something in his ear. "Knock knock."

Under any other circumstance, Karkat would have snapped at him that "just because you're a clown doesn't mean you have to tell any goddamn jokes", but he knew better than to say something like that when his own weapon was at his throat. "Who…Who's there?" For the second time, Karkat's voice cracked. This time he sounded so much more pathetic and so afraid that he mentally cringed at himself.

"Karkat."

The tone of Gamzee's voice was a warning that Karkat did not want to hear where this joke was going. It made his heart pound so hard it hurt. Every part of his body ached; every organ felt like they were ready to burst and every bone felt tired and weak. Karkat couldn't even feel the arm Gamzee had a grip on, he was holding it so tightly. His breath quickened and he felt Gamzee squeeze his arm as a warning to continue with his joke. Karkat could practically hear him growl, "_Continue the motherfucking joke, cherryblooded motherfucker._"

"Karkat who?"

"That's what everyone'll be motherfucking saying after I'm done with you."

If he wasn't so scared, Karkat would have facepalmed so hard he would have forgotten that joke. He wished he was able to tell Gamzee just how awful of a joke that was, but he was much to petrified.

Gamzee could feel Karkat tense. "Oh, come on, Karkat. I was only trying to lighten this motherfucking mood. Shit's gloomy." He waited for a response from his friend, but only sighed when he received nothing. "Alright, fine. I'm just letting you know, I'm making this all slow because I appreciate you and all you ever did. Most of it, anyway. You were always one pretty cool motherfucker." He knew that would have gotten a response out of Karkat, but he didn't give the troll a chance. In one swift movement, he slit Karkat's throat with his own sickle. Gamzee let go of his arm and watched him drop to the floor, a satisfying shriek coming from the trolls behind him. He admired the red blood Karkat left on the sickle and then peered back down to his crumpled form on the ground. He could hear him sputtering and gasping for breath that just wouldn't come, gurgling blood in his throat and drowning in its pitiful redness. It was a little ironic, Gamzee noted with a smile. Karkat always said that his blood color would kill him. Gamzee chuckled and rolled his moirail onto his back with a foot.

Karkat looked up at Gamzee with unfocused eyes. The world around him was clouded and fading to black with every shuddering, agonizing breath he took. His throat felt freezing and burning at the same time and his lungs were practically on fire with pain. His body was unresponsive; it was getting harder and harder to move and make himself do what he wanted to do. With the remainder of his strength, he looked up at the Makara and choked out his final words. "Wh–Why…?"

Gamzee kneeled down and dabbed his cut hand in Karkat's pooling blood. "I'm sorry. Motherfucker, this is the way it has to be."

Karkat sucked in a trembling breath. "Fuck you." With his final input in the air, he exhaled deeply and all life faded from his eyes.


End file.
